


Vamp Bait

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blood Drinking, Burlesque, F/M, Hand Jobs, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Mild Smut, Pining Allura (Voltron), Strippers & Strip Clubs, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 19:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13724784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lance is a burlesque dancer at Shiro's club - or, as he puts it, a fancy stripper. And fancy strippers, unfortunately, can get laid whenever they want, but good luck getting a date.Luckily there's a very cute goth girl who's been eyeing him for a bit. And Keith seems very encouraging.No problem, right?Side/background Sheith, onesided Lance/Nyma, past Allura/Keith (very casual fling, not romantic)





	Vamp Bait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenOfRavenss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfRavenss/gifts).



> Written for shiroisbeautiful/GothSheith for the Allurance Secret Admirer exchange!! I had WAY too much fun with this :D

Most people didn’t consider Lance’s job a dream come true- and he was sure with a little luck, he could do better - but there was something so,  _ so  _ fun about being able to say he was, for all intents and purposes, a fancy stripper. He got to dance with big feathery fans. He got to put sparkles on his tight undies. And he got all the dates he could ever want.

 

Well, sort of. They had a bad habit of never calling him back after the first night. Or doing what Nyma was doing right at that moment - giving him a slightly surprised look, like he'd crawled in unexpectedly rather than spent a good hour between her legs the night before.

 

“You’re, uh, still here.”

 

Lance shrugged on his hoodie over his bare chest. “...yeah? Ooh, coffee.”

 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Nyma pulled the coffee cup away from him.

 

“Yeah. I guess.” He managed a crooked smile. It didn’t  _ bother  _ him, really - it just, well. “Want me to call you later? I have Dennys coupons. Real good shit-”

 

“Uh huh,” interrupted Nyma. “Listen. I don't date strippers. I’m looking for, you know, a  _ committed  _ relationship. Somebody I can bond with. You know?”

 

Lance nodded. He was still smiling. “So, just the one night? I can roll with that.”

 

She laughed. “I certainly don't mind being your booty call, but I'm sure they’re lining up for you, mister silvertongue.” She sipped her coffee. “You’d better get going. I’m going to be late for work.”

 

“Of course.” 

 

He wasn’t disappointed. Not really. It was just normal now - but standing on the front step of Nyma’s building, punching Hunk’s number into his phone, he was starting to wonder if it was worth it. He was  _ good  _ at sex, just as good as he was at dancing. He’d made his manager - adorable buff boy that he was - cum three times in an hour right before said manager had agreed to raise Lance's percentage. 

 

Just, well, sex was  _ sex.  _ It got  _ boring.  _ And strangers kept being assholes about the idea that he might want more.

 

A grumble came through from the other aide of the line. “...Morning?”

 

“Hey, Hunk! Buddy!”

 

“Whose apartment are you at this time?” he sighed.

 

Lance dropped the fake cheery tone. “Bank and Third,” he mumbled.

 

“Nyma? You slept with  _ Nyma? _ ”

 

“We had a nice date! I bought her dinner!”

 

“Im coming to pick you up. I’m guessing you got another speech.”

 

Lance just sighed, leaning his head on his knees. “Yeah. Just - text me when you get here.”

 

It didn’t bother him. Not really.

 

But damn, did it get old.

 

\----

 

_ I could be like Grace Kelly, but all her looks were too sad, so I tried a little Freddy- _

 

Lance was having an off night, and even worse, he  _ knew  _ he was having an off night. Oh, he still had all the verve and energy he could muster up as he danced across the stage. But he was screwing up his timing, his hips weren’t moving right - 

 

Not that it mattered. The people in front of him were still eating it up. It didn’t really matter if you got a few steps wrong when you were tearing off your pants and waggling your crotch at people.

 

Damn. He really was miserable.

 

By the time he got backstage, he'd lost whatever verve he had. Humiliating. It was  _ humiliating.  _ Getting rejected wasn't supposed to leave him disconnected and struggling to remember his steps. He was sexy. He was awesome. He was...nothing  _ else,  _ apparently.

 

He sighed and peered out from behind the curtain. One of the other acts was on stage, doing much better than he had been.

 

Then he glanced over at the audience.

 

There was a girl up at the bar. Well, there was always a girl at the bar - but not usually girls with long, white hair that tumbled from a high ponytail, or wearing corsets with long skirts that made them look like lost princesses. Lance wasn’t sure why his eyes were drawn to her, but they were. 

 

He considered it, chewing on his lip. One failure shouldn't set him back. Or two. Or three-

 

He sighed and let the curtain fall. It wasn't worth going to talk to her. Not to get treated like a sex toy again.

 

\----

 

The next night went better. Mostly because he didn't let his eyes stray - he just slid back into the music, did his steps, shook his butt. He knew what was expected of him, and he hadn't quite remembered how to have  _ fun  _ with it, but he could do it and do it well.

 

He was fine. Until he saw Nyma in the crowd, still ogling him with a bite of her lip like nothing had happened.

 

Yep.

 

Totally fine.

 

"Lance?"

 

He glanced up at Keith with a sour expression, leaning back in the backstage chair. "What." He hadn’t even bothered doing more than taking the shiny star off of his face and putting his tight leather pants back on. 

 

Keith just raised an eyebrow back. "You don't need to bite me. There's somebody asking for you."

 

"Wh- by name?"

 

"Nah. It's one of the customers. Apparently they've been watching your last few dances and they're interested."

 

Lance narrowed his eyes at Keith. "Didn't I talk to you about how I don't do lapdances?"

 

"I  _ know.  _ I didn't  _ promise  _ her anything. But when somebody sits at my bar every time you dance for a week, I figure it's worth telling you."

 

Lance sighed and let his head hit the counter. "Can't you tell her I'm washing my hair or something?"

 

Keith snorted. "It's not Nyma."

 

"Hunk  _ told  _ you?"

 

"When are you going to realize I know everything?"

 

"You're a bartender. You're supposed to have selective memory."

 

"So I'm pouring you a rum and coke and you're coming up to talk to the cute person?"

 

"I feel like you're trying to make me do something."

 

"Yes. You're ugly when you're sulking."

 

Lance gave up and got to his feet, sticking the sparkly star back onto his cheek. "You're an asshole."

 

"I'm the asshole screwing your boss."

 

Right. Lance settled for a dark glare as he made his way up to the bar -

 

-and froze. It was the girl from yesterday with the white hair. Up close, he could see how tall she was, black dress slit up to her thigh and cascading down the bar stool in a waterfall of folds.

 

"Um."

 

Keith took his place behind the bar, and poured the aforementioned rum and coke. "Ma'am, this is him."

 

"Don't call me ma'am. It makes me feel old," she retorted, then turned and flashed Lance a dazzling smile. "So you're the dancer who's been impressing me so much."

 

_ Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush -  _ Lance offered a smile in return, heat suffusing his face despite his best efforts. So much for his Casanova days being over. “You've been, um, watching?”

 

“Indeed.” Her eyes strayed up and down him, and for all that Lance had resolutely determined never to be sexualized again, it was kind of hot. “I like your outfit.”

 

“W-what, the, uh -”  _ Dammit, stop blushing.  _ He was a  _ stripper.  _ He had absolutely no room to be self-conscious about today’s outfit. Fishnet shirt, tight tearaway leather pants, glittery eyeshadow - “Stripper clothes,” he said nervously, sitting down next to her and half-draining the rum and coke.

 

“Is it really stripping if you’re never  _ completely  _ naked? I thought that was part of the joy of burlesque.”

 

“I-it is.”  _ Lance Espinosa, think of something witty and cute to say right the fuck now - _

 

“You’re an  _ excellent  _ dancer.”

 

His straw made sad little gurgling noises on the bottom of the empty cup, and he wordlessly pushed it back over to Keith with a desperate look.

 

“You needn’t be so shy about it!”

 

“Ma’am, I-”

 

“Allura,” she said with a crook of her black lips. 

 

Lance completely forgot what he was going to say, instead staring blankly at her very, very pretty lips. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the reminder that this was exactly what he’d been determined  _ not  _ to do. 

 

“I was wondering if I could borrow you for an hour or so,” she said, eyes shining at him from under long eyelashes. “Perhaps for a private dance.”

 

Uh.  _ Uh. _

 

“Absolutely,” he found himself saying. Even though he didn’t do lapdances. Even though, in fact, he’d never done one in his life.

 

“Private room B is open,” Keith commented, popping an olive into his mouth. "Have fun."

 

"Have-" But Lance couldn't really protest. There were dollar signs warring with the heart emojis in his eyes. It didn't help that when Allura got to her feet, he got even more of a good look at her brown thigh and the dark blue tattoo that crept up towards her hip -

 

Yep, okay, looked like he did lap dances now. How hard could they be?

 

He followed Allura into the private room, and she shrugged off her jacket, baring her shoulders and giving him a full view of her corset, silver buckles gleaming and lace edges resting on her cleavage.

 

"You're staring," she said in an amused voice.

 

"Um. Yes. Probably." He managed to tear his eyes away. "-I'm supposed to be seducing  _ you. _ "

 

"Hmm, well, I don't see any need to stand  _ too  _ much on ceremony." Then her hands found his waist, moving up his sides, and he closed his eyes, forgetting everything else, forgetting how bloody  _ unprofessional  _ he was being -

 

-and let out an unholy screech as instead of the kiss he expected, something sharp pierced the side of his neck. Or, he would have, if Allura hadn't pushed her hand over his mouth and lifted her eyes back up to his with a pleading look. It would have been more effective if there hadn't been blood on her lips.

 

_ His  _ blood.

 

"MMMPH!"

 

" _ Please  _ be quiet?"

 

Lance reached up and tore her hand off his mouth. "Quiet?  _ Quiet?  _ You  _ bit me-"  _ He stuttered into silence for a second. "Are - are those  _ fangs? _ "

 

She closed her mouth, trying to look innocent. Again, the blood kind of ruined it. "...No?"

 

"Are you  _ eating me?  _ Are - oh my god. Oh my god, you're a vampire, and I'm the hapless prostitute getting  _ eaten  _ because I'm  _ stupid- _ "

 

"Lance," she sighed.

 

"Don't 'Lance' me! You have FANGS!"

 

"And boobs! Can't you focus on the boobs?"

 

"I can't enjoy your boobs if I'm DEAD!"

 

Allura was looking less and less impressed by the second. "You're  _ not going to die. _ "

 

"Bleeding! I am bleeding!"

 

"It's a flesh wound. You'll be fine. Do you want me to leave?"

 

"I want to know how I ended up being a vampire snack!"

 

Allura sighed, eyes shining a little. "Because you're a good dancer. And you always seem so nice, and Keith said you were lonely, and -"

  
"Wait, wait, wait. Rewind. You and Keith  _ know  _ each other?"

 

Allura started blushing. Whatever trace of the Smooth Sly Seductress there'd been left was gone - but Lance wasn't sure he minded. Even with the blood on her lips and chin, there was a wide-eyed sheepishness to her face now that was kind of. Cute.

 

The blood was still a thing though. And the fangs. Fangs that had definitely not been there before.

 

"I've been coming here for a while. Keith used to, erm..." Her voice dropped. "Donate. Before he and Shiro were a thing."

 

Beat.

 

"Wait. So. He  _ knows  _ you're a -"

 

"Y-yeah."

 

"I'm going to kill him."

 

She laughed, than sat down on the couch in the center of the private room, drooping a little. “I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, fiddling with one of the buckles on her corset. “I thought if I played it off as, well,  _ sexy,  _ you wouldn’t mind.”

 

He pressed his hand to his neck, then pulled it away, looking curiously at it. There were only two little dots of red on his hand. Barely anything to worry about it. “...I mean,” he said slowly. “You could have  _ asked. _ ”

 

“I could have?”

 

“I mean, I can’t promise I wouldn’t have flailed a  _ little.  _ And, er, maybe thought you were joking. But you’re, er, actually a vampire, huh?”

 

She nodded mournfully.

 

“Like, walks the night, drinks blood, sexy as fuck?”

 

Allura burst into laughter again. “I’m not usually wearing corsets! I was trying to, you know -” She blushed even deeper, and buried her head in her hands.

 

“...Do you have a  _ crush on me? _ ”

 

“No! Shut up! No!”

 

“That’s. That’s adorable.” 

 

“ _ No it’s not!”  _

 

Lance moved over to her and leaned over, pulling her hands gently away from her face. “Well,” he drawled, “I think it’s pretty dang cute.” He captured her lips in a kiss, his hands sliding down to wrap around her and pull her close. She sank into the kiss with a moan, and he backed her down onto the couch.

 

Then he pulled away, holding up a finger. “Okay, if I let you snack on me, I’m  _ not  _ turning into a vampire, right? I mean, I assume Keith isn’t a vampire. Although -”

 

“Nothing bad will happen. It’s like having your blood drawn.” 

 

Lance didn’t miss the flush on her face. “It’s a little more than that, isn’t it?” He let his hand roam down over her stomach and through the slit in her skirt, resting on her thigh - and was rewarded with a twitch and small murmur from her. “You can bite me. If you want.”

 

Allura nodded shyly, then buried her face in his neck. A few moments later, the sharp feeling came again, and Lance leaned his head to the side, closing his eyes and wincing as her teeth pierced the skin. God, it  _ was  _ kind of hot. His dick certainly seemed to think so. 

 

He moved his hand further up to brush over the crotch of her underwear, and her teeth twitched in his neck. Then the sharp intrusions slid out, replaced with the warmth of her lips and a giddy, dizzy feeling that bubbled in his head.

 

“Allura,” he moaned, and slid his fingers up to the nub of her clit, rubbing in circles and trying to ignore the way his cock was twitching in his pants. But when her hand found his erection, he was lost - especially when she flipped him over so  _ he  _ was on his back on the couch. Air hit his crotch as she pulled his erection free, lips still working at his neck, and then she was stroking him -

 

“F-fuck,” he managed to gasp. Everything was so  _ much.  _ He didn’t know where to put his hands - everything was happening at once, and god, he was going to cum, he was going to cum in a private room with his blood draining into somebody’s mouth -

 

The orgasm hit him hard enough to make him black out - maybe for a few seconds, maybe for a minute, he didn’t know. But he opened his eyes to Allura leaning over him with a soft smile, lips licked clean and her fingers pressed to the new holes in his neck.

 

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”   
  


“N-no,” he managed to say. “D-definitely not what I’m supposed to - to do during a lap dance. But. Wow.”

 

“You’re not actually a prostitute, are you?”

 

“Not as a - a general rule.” He was still having trouble catching his breath. “I-in fact I would like to consider this the start of something beautiful. If, er, you’d like.”

 

“I’m not sure me drinking your blood is a good basis for a relationship,” she replied wryly. She certainly  _ looked  _ healthier.

 

Lance chuckled, sitting up with a wince. “I can think of worse. I think I need some iron, though.”

 

“Oh, hm-”

 

“Do you like Denny’s?”   
  


Allura blinked - then her face split into a smile. “I can’t say I’ve ever been.”

 

“Oh, hell. Clearly this needs fixing. We should go. Right now.” He tried to get to his feet - and collapsed back onto the couch. “We should go in five minutes.”

 

She curled onto his chest, plucking at his fishnet shirt with a grin. “Sounds like a plan.”

 

It did at that. And fancy stripper or not, Lance had to admit, he felt pretty on top of the world. 


End file.
